


it's not rocket science

by oikawonder



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Teachers, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, English Teacher Iwaizumi, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Fluff, M/M, Nerd Oikawa Tooru, Oblivious Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru Likes Outer Space, Oikawa Tooru is a Tease, Pining, Rivalry, Science Teacher Oikawa, Star Gazing, Teacher Iwaizumi Hajime, Teacher Oikawa Tooru, Teacher/Teacher, The whole school ships them, and plants, but not really, someone help my boy iwa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28718187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oikawonder/pseuds/oikawonder
Summary: Perhaps summer mornings aren’t too bad. Unless something were to come along and ruin it. Or rather someone.“Iwa-chan~ good morning~”Oh fuck.A tall figure is walking towards the school gate from the opposite direction, waving and grinning at the sight of Hajime approaching with his energetic enthusiasm that never seems to falter. Not even at 7:30 in the morning. Hajime groans under his breath. It’s Oikawa Tooru.In which Hajime and Tooru are teachers at the same school in rival departments but, upon further inspection, Hajime realises that perhaps Tooru isn't so bad after all.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 33
Kudos: 297





	it's not rocket science

**Author's Note:**

> because there isn't enough teacher x teacher in the world.
> 
> enjoy this little drabble - it's not my best work, but i had a lot of fun writing it !!

Iwaizumi Hajime is not a morning person. 

His alarm erupts into his small bedroom, the shrieking bullets bouncing off the walls and ringing in his ears as he slams a heavy hand on the button. However, the newfound serenity is soon obliterated when the impending doom of reality nestles itself in Hajime’s brain unwelcomed. It’s _Monday_. He lets out an exasperated groan as he rolls out of bed, eyes squinting as he tries to navigate through the dark, hand grasping onto the nightstand. The floor is cold under his feet despite the warming weather and he hisses as he pads out of his room and into the kitchen. 

It’s 6:30 in the morning, and Hajime needs to get to the school in an hour to prepare his classes. Luckily, he lives in an apartment a short walk away, so the commute is nice and short (albeit not so fun when the weather is against him). He is an English teacher at a high school in Miyagi, Aoba Johsai, and has been for a year now. His family moved to the US when he was 6, and so he grew up bilingual, but later came back to Japan for university and to train to be a teacher. He doesn’t regret it. He loves his job. He just _hates_ the early mornings. After grabbing breakfast, washing up and changing into slacks and a white shirt, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows because of the heat, he makes up a flask of strong black coffee that even the smell of infuses a small amount of energy into his veins. With one quick flurry, he takes the flask and grabs his briefcase that he already prepared the night before, swinging his front door open and stepping out into the outside world. 

The morning air is fresh. The sun is slowly rising over the horizon, greeting Hajime as he begins his short walk to the school. Its golden glow shimmers through treetops beside the path, casting a mosaic of light at his feet and easing the goosebumps forming on his forearms. He takes a sip from his flask and sighs with bliss as a soft breeze tickles his nose and rakes through his spiky hair like water. Perhaps summer mornings aren’t too bad. Unless something were to come along and ruin it. Or rather some _one._

“Iwa-chan~ good morning~”

_Oh fuck._

A tall figure is walking towards the school gate from the opposite direction, waving and grinning at the sight of Hajime approaching with his energetic enthusiasm that never seems to falter. Not even at 7:30 in the morning. Hajime groans under his breath. It’s Oikawa Tooru.

“Morning, Shittykawa,” Hajime grumbles as they meet at the gate, gripping onto his coffee. Oikawa looks as dazzling as always, which only makes Hajime even more angry. Tooru’s perfectly styled hair bounces on his head as he comes to a stop, a light blue shirt unbuttoned at the top that he can somehow get away with, revealing pale collar bones, clinging to his toned body. He is a few centimeters taller than Hajime, creating the butt of many jokes, and the latter hates having to angle his head slightly upwards to meet Tooru’s gaze. Even his radiant smile makes Hajime all hot and bothered. But not in a good way. He thinks. 

“Raring to go as always, I see,” Tooru grins as he begins making his way towards the school entrance, Hajime falling into step beside him. 

“Mph,” Hajime huffs, taking a large gulp from his coffee like its water. “Not all of us are robots like you.”

Tooru laughs musically, making his broad shoulders shudder and eyes crinkle at the sides. “I believe the word you’re looking for is extraordinary. I am one of a kind, Iwa-chan. You are lucky to have met me,” he says after recovering from his chain of giggles with that pompous attitude Hajime is used to. If he weren’t so fatigued, Hajime perhaps could have continued their usual bickering and come up with a clever remark. But the caffeine hasn’t kicked in yet. He just sighs and shakes his head as they enter the main building, signing in at the reception with their ID cards and making small talk - although it is mostly one-sided with Tooru blabbering about his weekend and Hajime not registering any of it. 

Whilst Tooru intricately describes his meal out with friends yesterday, they make their way towards the teacher’s room, the rather gloomy atmosphere suddenly springing to life. All of the other teachers look up and smile at the sight of Tooru, greetings filling the air as the bright sunlight filters through the windows. That is the thing about him. He lights up every room and seems to get along with everyone. And everyone loves him - the teachers, the students, the parents. He is ‘Mr. Good Looking’, ‘Mr. Handsome’ and ‘Mr. Perfect’. And Hajime envies that about him. Hajime isn’t particularly a people’s person, and he would much rather sit on his own reading a book than interact with anyone. Which is ironic considering his job, but teaching in his eyes is completely different and easy. He doesn’t have to worry about holding a conversation or leaving a good impression; the students just listen to him and let him give them the knowledge they need. Conversations always revolve around a topic he is familiar with and enjoys. But conversations outside of the classroom are different. You cannot predict topics or know for certain you know the answer to a question. You have to actively _think_ and express how you feel, and Hajime struggles with that. So for Tooru, a man the same age as him, to be able to strike up conversations with absolutely anyone with such ease and confidence makes Hajime incredibly frustrated. Frustrated at himself and Tooru. But perhaps he is just projecting. He knows Tooru is a good person - he is kind and the first teacher to reach out to him when he started. But his mannerisms and irritating remarks rub Hajime the wrong way.

Plus he is a science teacher. The sworn enemy to any language or humanities subject. 

“Well, see you at break time! Bye, Iwa-chan~” Tooru sings after dumping his things at his desk and collecting some papers, seeming to ignore everyone else in the room despite their desks being pretty far from each other. Hajime supposes Tooru likes having another man the same age as him in the workplace. He puts on his lab coat covered with pins of aliens and UFOs and heads out towards the science block where his lab is. The last time Hajime walked past, he saw that planets made out of papier-mâché had been put up to hang from the ceiling. 

“You two seem pretty close. Are you friends?” the other english teacher who is still rather new asks beside him, her voice curious as she watches Tooru leave. Hajime chuckles to himself.

“More of a nuisance than a friend,” he replies, finishing his coffee and standing up to wash the flask out at the sink in the communal kitchen.

“Are you sure about that? I saw you smiling,” she calls after him, wiggling her eyebrows and grinning mischievously. His hands freeze and he frowns at the counter.  _ He had been smiling? _ He hadn’t even realised. But oh well, it doesn’t matter. He has classes to prepare. 

So he sits back down, ignoring the giggling colleague beside him, and starts editing a document on his laptop whilst trying desperately to ignore any thought of Tooru in the back of his mind. 

  
  


➳

Hajime’s class before lunch is a class of third years; they are actually his favourite class, as they are intelligent and can have fun without being disruptive. It’s a light-hearted atmosphere which is rather refreshing when you are a teacher. Good listeners are greatly appreciated. And they do not hesitate to ask questions and interact with Hajime, clearly willing to learn from him. 

He is reading through a passage from a textbook in English to show them the correct pronunciations when he sees the familiar flop of hair in the corner of his vision. He tries to ignore it, but the slowly rising snickers from the students makes it increasingly difficult. So he looks up briefly, meeting eyes with Tooru who has poked his head through the slightly open door and is leaning against its frame, long body nonchalant and eyes dancing with awe. 

“Oikawa sensei, what do you want?” Hajime asks with a sigh, lowering the textbook in his hands. He can feel all of the student’s eyes flicking back and forth between the two men with glinting amusement. 

“Oh nothing, I just like hearing you talk English and I was passing by…” Tooru trails off, grinning. Some students giggle and Hajime thinks he hears a couple say “me too.” He can feel his ears going red. He clears his throat.

“Right, well. If you want to listen, you should take a seat like the students, don’t you think?” Hajime brings himself to say with confidence he wasn’t even sure he had. Tooru’s eyes widen briefly at that but quickly go back to their usual composed position like a switch, scanning the room and spotting an empty seat at the back. He smirks and nods. 

“Yes, sir,” he says in a tone that makes Hajime’s blood boil. If there weren’t any students present, he would have let out a curse. He made the suggestion as a joke, not expecting the other man to agree, and yet he watches as Tooru saunters through the desks, lab coat trailing behind him like a cape, and plopping down at the back. The students giggle and whisper, and Hajime notices a few of the girls near him blushing. Hajime’s jaw sets as he stares daggers at Tooru who merely grins, resting his chin on his hand, the sun beaming down on him like a halo. 

After the chatter dies down, Hajime picks the textbook back up and sighs, starting the passage again. He can feel all of the students’ eyes glued to him like usual, but the burning sensation of _Tooru_ amongst them, his intense gaze watching his lips as he speaks, makes him stumble on a couple of the words. And once the passage is over, Tooru leans back in his far-too-small seat with a creak and starts clapping joyfully. Hajime rubs the heel of his palm against his eyes with exasperation. 

Luckily, saving him from further embarrassment, the bell rings signalling the start of lunch, and Hajime breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Class dismissed. Make sure to complete the tasks in that chapter by tomorrow. If you have any problems, come see me tomorrow morning,” Hajime announces to the class as they begin to pack their things into their bags, swapping books and pens for bentos and bottles. Hajime is collecting his resources and shoving them into his briefcase when he feels a figure looming over him, hands casually tucked into lab coat pockets. 

“You never fail to amaze me, Iwa-chan. You should teach me some English one day,” Tooru chirps, nudging Hajime’s shoulder as he gathers his things and starts making his way out of the classroom. 

“No, you would be a terrible student,” Hajime tuts and nudges Tooru back, although it becomes more of a shove. Tooru whines and regains his footing as Hajime turns to the left to head towards the teacher’s room, only for a hand to grab hold of his bare forearm. 

“Wait,” Tooru says loudly, turning Hajime to look at him. Students bustle around them in the corridor and give questioning looks which Hajime doesn’t enjoy but chooses to ignore. However, Tooru does seem to mind, as he quickly lets go. “I was gonna try a new café with Nakamura-san this lunch but she can no longer make it. Do you wanna come?”

The question catches Hajime off guard and he must show it on his face, as Tooru seems to melt in on himself and looks as if he wishes he could disappear. It isn’t that Hajime _doesn’t_ want to go; he just cannot understand why _the_ Oikawa Tooru, who is friends with every single teacher in the school, would want to ask Hajime. They may be two of the youngest teachers, but Tooru gets along perfectly well with the elder staff, with Nakamura probably being old enough to be his mother. So _why_? But Hajime doesn’t have time to make a list of all the pros and cons of accepting, and the corridor is getting busier and busier with students to the point where some accidentally knock into them.

“Sure,” is all he can muster, unable to turn down the offer with Tooru literally beaming at him with excited anticipation like a puppy. The latter jumps with joy and grins, bounding down the corridor with a skip in his step. Hajime cannot help but chuckle at the sight. Sometimes Tooru acts more like a student than a teacher. But it’s refreshing, and Hajime finds himself craving more like the rich air after it rains. 

Hajime quickly dumps his things in the teacher’s room and Tooru takes his lab coat off before leading the way out of the school, the sun shining brightly. The colours of summer are fully fledged now, with the manicured grass a vibrant green that competes with the lush leaves on the trees and bushes. The soft breeze is enough to keep you from overheating but not cold, making the temperature perfect as they stroll out of the gates. Hajime hardly ever leaves the school grounds at lunchtime, not really seeing the need for it. But he supposes that the teachers with more of a social life, like Tooru, may pop out occasionally to eat out with others. It feels exciting, as if he were a student sneaking out of school. 

“I hope you like cake, Iwa-chan. This place apparently has amazing cakes,” Tooru grins as their feet fall into sync against the pavement. His skin seems to glow in the sun, eyes glistening. 

“I don’t have much of a sweet tooth but I like it now and again,” Hajime admits, to Tooru’s horror. The latter gasps and spins on the balls of his feet, facing Hajime so that he is walking backwards. 

“Seriously? I could eat cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner!” Tooru exclaims, waving his hands around melodramatically. Hajime would make a snide comment but the approaching lamppost diverts his attention.

“Watch where you’re going,” he grumbles and yanks Tooru to the side, neatly avoiding the pole of metal. The taller male just shrugs without even being fazed and goes back to walking normally beside Hajime. The café comes into view after rounding a corner and Tooru grins, grabbing Hajime’s upper arm and pulling him the rest of the way. It looks rather quiet as it is a weekday, occupied mostly by the elderly and chatting mothers. Many seem to stare in their direction as they enter, whispering in a not-so-discreet way. Hajime just shakes it off and approaches the counter, taking in the vast spread of cakes on the other side of the glass. 

“Go grab a seat and I’ll get us some cakes. Americano for you, right? No milk?” Tooru asks, tilting his head. Hajime blinks slowly and stares for a moment. He knows exactly what drink Hajime wants. He isn’t sure whether to be creeped out or amazed. But he still complies, nodding and finding a table for two by the window that looks out onto the street outside. He enjoys people-watching, and so finds himself staring out through the glass and watching the world go by, the bustle of life blurring past him as he observes. He finds himself watching a certain elderly couple as they cross the street, arms linked and bodies pressed against one another. He smiles without realising at the intimacy, heart swelling. 

“Iwa-chan, stop staring at people. It’s creepy.”

Hajime snaps his attention away from the moving world outside and settles on Tooru who is now standing by the table, smirking. Unlike outside, the world seems to stand still around Tooru, making him the only thing worth focusing on. 

“ _I’m_ creepy? How come you know my taste in coffee?” Hajime scoffs as Tooru sits down opposite him with a tray. He takes his black coffee and stares with a raised eyebrow at the sickly array of cakes in front of him and the amount of whipped cream on what looks like hot chocolate, but there is so much that you can hardly tell. 

“I’m telling you, I’m psychic,” Tooru winks and slides a plate of chocolate cake closer, holding up a fork. When Hajime responds with nothing but a judgemental gaze, eyes furrowed, Tooru sighs in defeat. “I’ve seen you make yourself coffee in the teacher’s room before,” he finally admits before taking a bite of the cake. His eyes widen and a dusting of pink blooms on his cheeks. “This is delicious! Here, try some.”

Tooru hands Hajime a fork and the latter begrudgingly does as he is told to make him happy. He was right, it does taste good, but a few mouthfuls is enough for Hajime. He soon goes back to the deep richness of his coffee and lets Tooru consume all of the sugar. 

“So…” Tooru says through the silence, clearly not enjoying it. He is one of those people who must always be occupied with something, Hajime supposes. “How has your day been so far?”

The question is simple, and yet Hajime frowns. Tooru is attempting small talk, but it is just another reminder to Hajime that they don’t really _know_ each other at all. And yet Tooru invited him here. It just doesn’t add up in his head, and it has been bugging him this whole time. 

“Oikawa, why did you bring me here? We aren’t even close,” Hajime says without meeting Tooru’s gaze, but he can see the way his broad shoulders seem to sink in the corner of his vision. He should feel guilty, but his confusion is taking prime position in his mind instead. 

“Why not? We’re friends, aren’t we?” Tooru answers, clearly equally baffled. He tilts his head and a piece of hair falls across his forehead. His expression is bright and inquisitive, but the silence and hesitation that fills the air as Hajime stares blankly in return makes his smile fall. Hajime suddenly realises that he has completely messed up.

“Of course!” he butts in, leaning closer and meeting Tooru’s gaze. He has been an idiot. A rude idiot. He wouldn’t be surprised if Tooru never wants to speak to him again. But the man in question perks up, watching Hajime carefully with delicate curiosity. “I just meant that… well… you’re friends with so many other teachers and closer with them, and yet you always go out of your way to talk to me. I guess I just don’t get it.”

Tooru stares at Hajime in speechless silence. His expression is unreadable, and Hajime finds it rather uncomfortable as Tooru always shows exactly how he is feeling through his face and body. It’s unsettling. Is he mad? Upset? Confused? Any indication would be greatly appreciated. But the most surprising reaction suddenly comes in the form of a laugh. Tooru giggles to himself, shaking his head in what could be disbelief.

“Oh, Iwa-chan. You’re so dense,” he says in between laughs and Hajime just falls further into a ditch of confusion. He waits patiently for Tooru to finish laughing, the odd chuckle bubbling back up just when he thinks it’s over. Then an odd silence falls and Tooru, clearly exasperated, leans his elbow on the table and rests his chin in his hand. They seem to have gotten closer with their knees gently touching under the table. “You intrigue me. That’s why. Happy now?”

Hajime is not happy.

“Huh? Why? There’s nothing intriguing about me,” Hajime answers perhaps a bit too quickly, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowing into a dubious stare. 

“Oh, come on. A hot new teacher from America the same age as me joining the school but not making an effort to talk to me unless I instigate it is _very_ intriguing.”

Hajime almost chokes at the word ‘hot’ but shoves it to the back of his mind to ponder over later. The way Tooru phrases it _does_ make him sound rather mysterious, but the truth is that he really isn’t all that interesting. Tooru will be very disappointed if he really got to know him and may just get bored of him. So if being closed off means that he would stick around, maybe that isn't too bad. 

“So what you mean is that trying to befriend me is a challenge that you find exciting,” Hajime responds with a flat voice, finishing his coffee that has started to go cold. Tooru frowns but doesn’t verbally disagree. 

“Well I suppose, but it’s not just that. I also want to be your friend because having someone the same age around is refreshing. Sometimes being surrounded by middle aged people is exhausting. I have to pretend I actually care about the weather and the news,” Tooru grins and Hajime exhales a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. The reasoning is logical, and Hajime admits that being with Tooru is enjoyable. He cannot quite think why he never considered him a friend before. “Although, you do act a bit like an old person sometimes, Iwa-chan.”

Ah. That is why. But at least now he knows that the teasing is a weird way of Tooru being friendly. And Hajime finds he doesn’t actually mind it. 

They spend the rest of their time talking about their interests, which mostly revolves around their taste in movies which turns out to not be too dissimilar. Time goes by quickly and suddenly they’re running back to the school, cutting it close. Hajime doesn’t have a class but Tooru does, and they enter the building just before the bell rings marking the end of lunch. Tooru quickly grabs his things from the teacher’s room and darts off with a wave and his lab coat almost getting caught in the door. Hajime stifles a chuckle and shakes his head, slumping into the chair at his desk with a small smile playing at his lips. 

“Where did you two disappear off to?” Nakamura asks as she sits down at her desk opposite Hajime, getting out a stack of workbooks to mark. 

“We went to a new café down the street. He said you were supposed to go with him but were busy so he asked me to go with him instead,” Hajime explained, expecting a nod in agreement. But instead Nakamura frowns.

“He never asked me to go with him. I wasn’t busy either,” she responds, confusion in her voice. Hajime is also confused. Why did Tooru lie? Did he think that Hajime would say no? Was he embarrassed to ask? Scared? Hajime wasn’t _intimidating_ , was he? A spiral of questions spin around in his head and he feels a wave of dizziness wash over him. Tooru seems to bring a hidden air of unanswered questions with him wherever he goes, and Hajime is the current victim to it. 

“Oh. Strange,” is all Hajime can reply with before getting up and making himself another coffee. He doesn’t particularly want it or need it, but he isn’t really sure what else to do to busy his mind. 

Tooru may have said that it was Hajime who is intriguing, but really it is him who is the mysterious one. Just when Hajime thinks he is getting to know him, he throws a curveball. Hajime puts in two sugars for good measure. 

  
  


➳

The next day, Hajime finds himself lingering outside of Tooru’s lab like a lost puppy. 

Every other Tuesday, the two of them don’t have a class before lunch, and Hajime has decided to take it upon himself to ask if Tooru wants to go out again. Something in him seems to be drawn to the other man like a magnet. He doesn’t know if it’s just the effects of Tooru’s charm, and whether this was something all of Tooru’s friends experience, or if he just wants to know more about the mysterious man who lied to him so that Hajime would be more likely to agree to get coffee and cake with him. Perhaps Hajime is just falling right into the trap made up of mind games and an irresistible charm. 

And yet he ends up hovering outside of Tooru’s lab, trying to find the courage inside him to knock on the door. He takes a deep breath and approaches the door, noticing that it is slightly cracked open, yellow light glowing through. As he gets closer, he can hear the tumbling of low voices coming from the gap. He should stop and turn back. He should give Tooru some privacy in whatever conversation he is having. But Hajime’s feet refuse to move. He has come this far, and turning back now is something he promised to himself that he wouldn’t do. So he ends up peering through the small opening, only to quickly snap himself back. Tooru isn’t alone. A young girl that Hajime recognises as a third year is standing by his desk, sniffling and trying to hold back tears as she speaks in a wobbly voice. Hajime knows he should go. It is the right thing to do, after all. But his morals have clearly flown out the window, as he leans against the wall by the door and waits patiently. 

However, with the door slightly open and the desk rather close, it is impossible not to eavesdrop. At least, that is what Hajime tells himself. 

“I’m just not sure what to do. No matter what, I can’t improve,” the girl says in a panicked voice. Hajime instantly feels sorry for her. He has seen plenty of students plateau before and getting stuck at a dead end, but Hajime is bad with words, so he is always unsure on how to reassure them. But they always return on top form eventually. Is it because they come to Tooru? It’s possible. 

“I understand. Don’t worry, it happens. This grade doesn’t define your capabilities, you’ll come back fighting. Just take a break. You’re probably knee deep in work and sometimes you just need a breather to get back on your feet. I can give you an extension on today’s homework and instead have it due next week, okay?” Tooru responds in a soft hushed voice. His tone even makes Hajime feel reassured and he cannot help but let a small smile slip. He had Tooru all wrong. The constant attention and smiles that follow him isn’t just because of some facade of kindness and the personification of hyperbole. The reason people love him is because he is a genuinely nice person. He is approachable and thoughtful, not arrogant or pompous. His over the top attitude isn’t irritating - it is meant to cheer people up and shine a light on any dull day. His overwhelming positivity may be forced at times, but it is all to make others happy. Tooru is _selfless_ , not selfish. 

Hajime has a sudden urge to charge in there and apologise for his misjudgement, but he supposes that should wait. 

“Okay, thank you Oikawa Sensei,” the girl replies in a lighter voice than before. She has stopped sniffling. But just as she goes to leave, Tooru gets up from his seat behind his desk, indicated by a sharp squeak. 

“Wait wait wait. Before you go, I have another solution to your problem,” Tooru’s silhouette moves in the gap and the sound of pens being rummaged through can be heard with the rip of a piece of paper. “Write down your worry on here and then throw it into the sun.”

It takes Hajime a moment to register the sentence. _What on earth is he talking about?_ Does he want her to throw it at the sky? Isn’t that just littering? His eyes look through the gap as the girl laughs and starts writing, and then he understands. The solar system is hanging from Tooru’s lab ceiling, and in the centre is the sun. It’s a large upside-down dome shape, like a bowl, and hangs with four strings attached to it. There is an opening between the sun and the ceiling, and Hajime watches as the girl crumples up her piece of paper and throws it. It goes in on the first try and Tooru woops with joy like he is at a sports event. 

“See? Doesn’t that feel better? The surface of the sun is around 5,505 degrees celsius, so your worry has been very much incinerated,” Tooru adds with a grin and a triumphant hand on his hip. The student giggles and nods happily, picking up her school bag and getting ready to leave. Hajime quickly moves away from the door and stares out the window on the opposite side of the corridor so as not to look too suspicious. He hears a loud “See you tomorrow!” from Tooru as the girl scurries out, and Hajime turns around, assuming Tooru is still in the room. But he is not. He is leaning against the doorframe, eyebrow raised. “Well well well. Iwa-chan, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?” 

Hajime flushes and clears his throat. The sly smirk on Tooru’s knowing face makes Hajime feel very much exposed. Tooru is not dumb. It’s rather obvious that Hajime has been waiting outside for a while. 

“I um… I knew you didn’t have a class so I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch again?” Hajime asks sheepishly. He feels like a schoolboy confessing to his crush. He feels silly. 

“Well of course, Iwa-chan,” Tooru lights up and grins with excitement, grabbing his briefcase from his desk and pushing the door to his lab shut behind him. They make their way towards the exit and, just as the silence teeters on the edge of being awkward, Tooru pipes up. “So where are we going?”

“There’s a ramen shop that I’ve been going to since I moved here. It’s not very well known but all the best places are hard to find,” Hajime explains as they clock out at the reception desk and head out. Tooru hums beside him, clearly content with the choice. 

“How did you know I was craving ramen?” Tooru grins and lightly nudges Hajime’s shoulder. Hajime just chuckles.

“I guess I’m psychic too,” is his response. Tooru just pouts at the reply and continues his long strides. But when they reach the crossroads, he suddenly remembers he doesn’t know where he is going, and quickly slows down. 

When they finally reach the tucked away ramen shop, Tooru freezes. 

“Uh… Iwa-chan. I can’t go in there,” he says in an uncharacteristically small voice. Hajime spins around, confused. 

“Huh? Why?”

“Do you know the owners?” Tooru asks. Hajime has never seen him look so… vulnerable. It’s almost unnerving. He thinks for a moment before responding, treading carefully as if Tooru is a wild animal. 

“I’ve spoken to them a few times whilst in there. I think it’s a family business. The… Ushi… something-”

“The Ushijimas,” Tooru practically hisses. His fists are clenched into balls by his sides and Hajime watches with concerned eyes. He steps away from the door and places a hand on Tooru’s arm.

“I know a different ramen shop nearby. Let’s head there.”

The walk is painfully silent. Hajime has a lot of questions spinning around his head, but the tense lock of Tooru’s jaw and the clear agitation emitting from the latter’s body makes him decide to save it for later. There is clearly some history there. Some history is best left untouched. 

They reach the new ramen shop and sit down, ordering quickly as they’re both hungry. Tooru looks on edge, and Hajime frowns.

“Hey, everything okay?” Hajime asks before putting out his hand to touch Tooru’s on top of the table. He isn’t sure why he does it. To get the latter’s attention, sure. But it’s rather… intimate. _No._ Comforting. Yeah, comforting. He takes his hand away so that his brain shuts up. 

“Uh… I just know the owner of that place. Well, his son. We… kind of left things in a bad way the last time we saw each other,” Tooru explains, hesitation in his voice. His fingers fidget with each other on the table and Hajime wants to reach over and hold them. He has never seen this side to Tooru before. He doesn’t like it.

“Did you have a fight? It’s never too late to make up if it’s bothering you,” Hajime suggests, to Tooru’s horror.

“No no, I never want to see him again. And besides, it’s been years. It was in high school…”

“High school? You’re holding a grudge on someone since _high school_?” Hajime asks incredulously, at a loss for words. But Tooru doesn’t react; he just nods, as if it’s perfectly normal. Hajime reminds himself to never get on Tooru’s bad side. 

“Yes. He broke my heart, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says flatly, just as two bowls of ramen are placed on their table. The momentary distraction means that Hajime doesn’t process what Tooru says for a moment, but when he puts his hands together and says thank you for the food, about to tuck in, it hits him.

“Wait what?”

Tooru stares at him with wide eyes, head tilting to the side. Hajime just stares back, unmoving. He watches as realisation dawns on Tooru’s face, letting out an “ah!” and slamming his chopsticks back onto the table. 

“He um… well we… uh…” Tooru scratches his neck, going bright red, and tries to search for the appropriate words to use. But Hajime knows what he is trying to say. And he can’t watch Tooru struggle any longer.

“He’s your ex, isn’t he?”

Tooru opens his mouth and closes it again like a goldfish before looking into his bowl sheepishly.

“Yeah…”

“Okay,” Hajime says before picking up his chopsticks and digging into his ramen. He can feel Tooru watching him, golden eyes burning into his forehead.

“Okay? Just okay?” Tooru questions, confused. Hajime just looks up and shrugs. “You’re supposed to have more of a reaction than that,” Tooru continues, and Hajime just looks into his wide eyes, smiling. 

“Did you want me to scream at you? I can if you want,” Hajime says, slurping up some more ramen. Tooru hasn’t even touched his yet. “Eat your ramen, idiot. It’ll get cold.”

“So you don’t mind?”

Tooru’s voice is small, unlike him, and Hajime once again has a sudden urge to hold his hand. But instead, Hajime tilts his head, chewing on another mouthful. 

“You have connected the dots, right? My ex is a _guy_.” Tooru’s expression becomes exasperated rather than upset, and Hajime is glad. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

“I’m not dumb, Oikawa. I don’t mind. Now could you please start eating your ramen else I’m gonna get mad.”

Tooru stares at Hajime for a moment, who has swiftly continued to eat from his own bowl, and tries to hold back a smile. The expression on his face is far from the gloom of before, and a newfound energy fills his body. They eat together in a comfortable silence. 

  
  


➳

  
  


And they seem to eat together a lot.

Days pass, and days turn into weeks, weeks becoming months. 

They soon establish a routine: they meet at the gate every morning, walking into school together despite Tooru being insufferable for the early morning. They go out for lunch every Wednesday and try a new cafe or ramen shop each time. And Tooru often comes into Hajime’s classes when he has nothing better to do, listening to the latter speaking English with an intense curiosity. There is even an empty desk designated for him in the back corner. At first, Hajime thought it was just to annoy him. But the sharp stare of honey eyes transfixed on Hajime as he speaks, that follow him with every movement, impossible to ignore, suggest otherwise. And soon Hajime finds himself feeling guilty. So he sneaks into one of Tooru’s classes. 

The first thing he notices is how passionate Tooru is. Most of the time, Hajime has no idea what he is even talking about. But the way Tooru’s eyes seem to burn small fires, his grin as a student asks a question, to which he answers with clarity, his hands that fly around with excitement; It all reeps passion. And Hajime finds himself getting sucked in. So, whenever he has a free period and Tooru is teaching, he will sit on one of the stools and watch. The students always used to give quizzical looks, but now they are used to it. So much so that they are all incredibly confused when Tooru doesn’t show up to Hajime’s class.

“Iwaizumi sensei, where is Oikawa sensei?” one of the girls asks, voice full of concern. Hajime’s eyes flick to the empty desk in the back corner and he frowns.

“I don’t know,” is his honest answer. This clearly isn’t satisfactory, and the class erupts into questions. “Let’s just get started on the task at hand, shall we?” 

The thing is that he is telling the truth. Tooru always appears just before the class starts on a Tuesday morning, but he isn’t here. And he wasn’t at the school gate earlier, either. Hajime decides to promptly save his worrying for after class, and proceeds with the lesson as planned. 

Once he is back in the teacher’s room, however, seeing the empty desk, his worry reemerges. Grabbing his phone, he finds Tooru’s contact and calls him. It takes a few rings, but he picks up.

“Iwa-chan?” he says in a strained voice.

“Oh good, you’re alive,” Hajime releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding before slumping onto his chair. “Why aren’t you at work?”

“I’m sick,” Tooru replies, coughing for added effect. Hajime frowns as he files away paperwork. 

“Dummy. Have you taken any medicine?”

“No Iwa-chan, I thought I would just let myself wallow in suffering and self-pity,” Tooru says in a sarcastic tone, voice deeper and rough. “Although I am running out…”

“Do you want me to drop off some medicine after work?” Hajime asks, tapping his pen on his desk. 

“I don’t wanna give the sickness to you…”

“It’s fine. I have a good immune system, I hardly ever get sick.”

Tooru sighs on the other side of the phone, but Hajime can tell that he is smiling.

“Why am I not surprised. Okay fine, thank you Iwa-chan. Just some painkillers will be fine.”

Hajime isn’t very good at following instructions. By the time school finishes and he finds himself in the local convenience store, his basket is full of different medicine and remedies. And he adds in some ice cream and herbal tea for good measure. 

The walk to Tooru’s apartment is pleasant. It’s on the opposite side of town to Hajime’s, and so the scenery feels familiar yet still new. It’s autumn now, and the orange leaves crunch under Hajime’s feet. The dwindling light of the sun is getting ready for its slumber, nestled in the horizon, and the air is crisp. A park full of giggling children sits opposite his destination and Hajime smiles fondly before crossing the street.

He hasn’t actually ever been to Tooru’s apartment. The complex looks decent, but nothing fancy. The elevator works, which is often rare. And when he finds himself at Tooru’s door, the corridor is clean and quiet. But that serenity is disrupted when he knocks loudly on the door, and hears the thumbling of somebody inside reaching for the lock.

The door swings open, revealing a rather disheveled Oikawa Tooru. 

His hair hasn’t been styled into the usual perfect sweeps, and sticks out in random directions. And his oversized t-shirt and sweatpants are crumpled, collarbone exposed as his t-shirt falls to one side. Feverish pink dusts his cheeks, nose red, but his chocolate eyes still shine at the sight of Hajime. He looks… cute. 

“Iwa-chan! You came!” Tooru’s croaky voice exclaims. He holds the door open for Hajime to enter, who kicks off his shoes before scanning the expanse. 

He almost lets out a laugh. Tooru’s apartment is so… Tooru. Different kinds of plants are scattered everywhere, vibrant green and taken care of. And a bookshelf that covers an entire wall of the living room is stacked full of books, the odd sci-fi film figurine standing in front of manga. The wallpaper resembles a night sky with stars decorating the wall that go perfectly with the glowing planet lamp that sits on the coffee table. The clutter is tidy and placed perfectly; an organised mess. 

“Here you go,” Hajime says as he holds out the shopping bag, suddenly remembering what he is here for. Tooru takes it happily, eyes lighting up at the contents.

“You bought me _ice cream_? Iwa-chan! Thank you so much,” Tooru gushes, emptying the contents onto the table. He runs to the kitchen and returns with a spoon, opening the ice cream and taking a scoop. Hajime scratches the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well… They’ll want you back at work as soon as possible so… I thought it might help with your throat,” he says rather awkwardly. Tooru just beams, shovelling chocolate ice cream into his mouth. Sometimes Hajime has to remind himself that this is a 27 year old man. 

“How much do I owe you?”

“Huh?”

“How much did all this cost? I’ll pay you back,” Tooru insists before erupting into a coughing fit. Hajime frowns and pats Tooru on the back, handing him the glass of water on the table.

“Don’t worry about that,” Hajime says softly as Tooru regains composure. He flops down onto the sofa, groaning. “Do you want some tea? I bought some that’s supposed to help with colds,” Hajime offers to the almost unresponsive Tooru. The latter just hums in agreement. 

So Hajime ventures into Tooru’s kitchen, which is equally full of plants and interesting memorabilia, and makes up some herbal tea in an alien mug.

“Iwa-chaaaaan, what would I do without you?” is Tooru’s reaction, and Hajime just grins. As he becomes increasingly aware of how domestic this is, he finds he doesn’t mind it at all. 

Tooru makes him leave shortly after; both out of worry about spreading germs and also self-consciousness. “Please erase this image of me out of your brain forever,” is his final comment as he shoos Hajime towards the door.

“What if I don’t want to?” Hajime quips back, meeting Tooru’s gaze, and the latter flushes, pushing Hajime into the corridor. 

“T-tough! Goodbye Iwa-chan!” the flustered mess stutters out before slamming the apartment door in a hurry. Hajime stares at the closed door for a moment, trying to process what has just happened. But a smile creeps onto his lips as he ventures back into the cool autumn air, his heart beating just a little faster. 

  
  


➳

  
  


It begins to happen more often. The lurch in his stomach as Tooru calls out his name. The heat that creeps up his neck with every intense stare. The fondness he feels as he listens to random space facts. The way his heart pounds whenever Tooru brushes his hand over Hajime’s shoulder as he moves past. And when he starts to actually not _mind_ the early mornings, and finds himself excited to start his day and greet Tooru by the school gate, that’s when he realises he’s in deep. 

So he finds himself standing in Tooru’s empty lab. The latter is away on a school trip to a science museum, and Hajime sighs as he sinks into the chair behind the desk. He finds the mug filled with pretty pens and the small pieces of scrap paper tucked away on a shelf. And he starts writing in English.

_I think I’m in love with this idiot and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if he likes me back, and I don’t know how to even make a move. I’m 27 and I’m absolutely clueless when it comes to love. God this is stupid what am I doing._

He crumples up the paper into a ball and stands up, sighing. But the looming sun hanging from the ceiling is too tempting. Tooru is annoyingly clever.

So he throws the paper into the sun. It lands on the edge of the pile, surrounded by other people’s concerns, high up and out of reach in a papier mâché bowl. Hajime was a bit skeptical as to whether this would actually help, but the lifted weight off his shoulders suggests that it really does. That bastard. 

Despite the momentary relief, it soon comes back to haunt him. 

“Iwa-chan~” Tooru cooes the next day, sauntering into the teacher’s room at lunch. His hands are behind his back. “Come with me for a second.”

Confused, Hajime stands up from his desk and follows Tooru into the corridor. They stand there, staring at each other, before Tooru holds up a hand. He is holding a crumpled piece of paper. _Oh no._

“I found this on the floor of my lab. I think my sun is overflowing so it must have fallen out. I noticed it’s written in English and looks like your handwriting…”

Hajime’s heart is pounding in his ears. He wants to disappear. He wants to simply vanish from planet Earth and never be perceived ever again. But unfortunately that isn’t possible, and Hajime will have to face the consequences.

“What does it say?” Tooru asks, tilting his head.

“Huh?”

“It’s in English…”

Hajime’s world stops crumbling for a second. Oh thank _God._

“Oh I just uh… miss my parents…” Hajime manages to muster without grimacing. Tooru blinks before nodding, and Hajime breathes a sigh of relief. Crisis averted. He hopes.

“Ah, okay. Good to know you like my teaching techniques,” Tooru winks before walking back into the teacher’s room. Oh great, now Hajime has boosted Tooru’s ego. 

  
  


➳

  
  


The next week comes around rather swiftly. The weather grows cooler with every passing day, and the nights start to pull in. By the time Hajime finishes work, the sky is already a deep indigo. And yet, this isn’t even the biggest difference. One thing that he cannot stop noticing is how Tooru has become clingier. 

It started with an arm slung over Hajime’s shoulder as they entered the school Monday morning. And then on Wednesday, Tooru grabbed hold of Hajime’s hand to lead him to a new cafe he wanted to try. On Thursday he even hugged Hajime goodbye before they parted ways after work. And the whole week he was always there by Hajime’s side whenever he wasn’t busy. 

They’re leaving the school on Friday, the stars watching them from above, when they reach the pavement. Hajime braces himself for another hug, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Tooru turns to face him and rocks on the balls of his feet, as if he’s nervous. 

“Iwa-chan… are you free tomorrow night?” he asks, biting the inside of his cheek. His eyes are bright and hopeful; impossible to say no to.

“I believe so. Why?”

“Well… you see… it’s supposed to be the peak of the Orionid meteor shower tomorrow, and I was thinking of watching them in the park. I was just wondering if you would like to join me?” Tooru explains sheepishly, curious eyes awaiting a reply. Hajime stifles a breath.

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation, perhaps a little too eager. “Yeah, I would love to. I’ve never seen a meteor shower before.”

Tooru grins and slings his long arms around Hajime in a quick hug. “Yay! I’ll message you when I’m ready and we can meet in the park. And wrap up warm! It’s gonna be a cold one,” Tooru waffles as he pulls away. He seems to be speaking at such an incredible speed that Hajime almost doesn’t catch it. Is it because he’s so excited? Nervous? Why would he be nervous? Hajime then realises that he himself has butterflies in his stomach and wonders, maybe, just maybe…

“See you tomorrow~”

As Tooru turns to walk in the opposite direction, he looks over his shoulder and smirks. “And Iwa-chan… I studied in Australia for a year. I know English.”

Hajime watches him leave with confusion. And he stands there in front of the school gate, Tooru’s words whirring around his head for an achingly long time. He starts walking home, eyebrows furrowed, when it hits him.

His feet stop moving. His eyes grow. His heart pounds in his chest. 

The note. _The note._ This means Tooru understood Hajime’s note in the sun. He feels sick. 

“Fuck!” he exclaims out loud, turning around. But Tooru is long gone, not even a distant figure. This is not how this was supposed to go. Hajime yells out, hands in his hair. He feels like a teenager again, and his friend has just told his crush that he likes them. Tooru knew this entire time.

Memories of hugs and hands intertwined from earlier this week flood into Hajime’s mind and he almost chokes. Tooru knows. And he is either being incredibly cruel, or he actually likes Hajime back. Is tomorrow technically a date? Is that why Tooru was nervous?

“Oh my God…” Hajime breathes. “I’m such an idiot.”

  
  


➳

  
  


And so the idiot goes on what he now realises is a date. 

Tooru was right, it is rather cold, and Hajime finds himself wrapped in a big scarf, wearing multiple layers and a beanie. His gloved hands hold a flask of coffee as he puffs down the street. The air spirals white as it escapes his mouth, and his nose is already turning pink. But when he turns the corner and finds the park, the serene quietness only being disturbed by the rustle of leaves, he supposes it’s worth it. 

Even more so when he spots a lanky body spread out on a blanket in the middle of the grass.

Hajime trudges over, adrenaline and nerves buzzing through his veins like electricity. Tooru waves and taps the empty side of the blanket in a silent request, to which Hajime complies. 

“You came,” is Tooru’s first comment as they lie next to each other, shoulders pressed against the other. He is equally wrapped up in clothes, cheeks and nose rosey. 

“Of course I came,” Hajime replies bluntly. Tooru just chuckles. 

They lie in silence, eyes glued to the dark sky above. After five minutes, Hajime frowns and turns to look at Tooru.

“I can’t see any meteors.”

Tooru turns his head so that they are facing each other, noses almost touching. Hajime gulps.

“Patience, Iwa-chan. You have to wait for your eyes to adjust first,” he explains, voice hushed as if the stars are alive, not wanting to scare them away. Hajime nods and quickly turns his head back to look at the sky, not able to look into Tooru’s deep sparkling eyes for much longer. But he finds that the night sky is equally as deep and sparkling. 

“Ah! Iwa-chan! Did you see that?” Tooru exclaims, finger pointing up to… darkness.

“Uh… no,” Hajime answers truthfully and Tooru sighs. 

“Just wait. You’ll see them soon,” Tooru promises. Hajime turns to look at the other man, who is looking up to the sky with ecstatic wonder. His eyes glitter, the stars making a home within them. Even if he doesn’t see any meteors, he could happily watch Tooru all night. 

“Look!”

Hajime whips his head back to the sky and gasps. Two meteors shoot across the sky, silver trails dancing over the canvas of black. He watches in awe as they slowly disappear behind a tree, smiling.

“Woah,” is all he can manage to let out. 

Tooru laughs beside him, shoulder shuddering. 

“Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Yeah…”

Another few minutes pass like that: the odd meteor flying across the sky and Hajime being speechless, whilst Tooru offers the odd fact. At some point, their gloved fingers have tangled into each other, hands pressed firmly together. 

“Do the meteors not hit Earth? Aren’t they dangerous?” Hajime wonders aloud. Tooru promptly shakes his head.

“Very rarely. Most meteors are pretty small so they burn out before they have the chance.”

Hajime nods and intakes a sharp breath as another shining light shoots over them. Surrounded by the stars and the moon, he supposes this is all rather… romantic. Hajime’s cheeks flush, not just from the cold, and he becomes increasingly aware of their hands knotted together, and the firm press of Tooru’s body beside him. 

If Hajime is going to make a move, now would be a good time. 

He doesn’t even notice Tooru is speaking when he props himself up on his elbows, leaning over.

“Oh, and they’re called the Orionids because the radiant - uh that’s like… the point they appear to come from - lies in the constellation of Orion! You know that hunter in Greek mytholo- mhm!”

Hajime presses his lips against Tooru’s abruptly, stopping the latter in his spiel. It’s sudden and slightly clumsy, but Tooru smiles into the kiss, placing a hand on Hajime’s neck. The warmth of one another on this cool Autumn night is almost dreamy. Hands wrap around each other as the kiss deepens, mouths moving languidly against each other. Hajime’s mind has turned to goo, and all he can think about is Tooru. It’s always Tooru. 

Their lips detach briefly as they catch their breath, half-closed eyes like liquid pools as they stare at each other. And they are soon kissing again. Hajime cannot get enough. Tooru tastes like chocolate and sugar; addictively sweet. And their lips fit perfectly together, two puzzle pieces finally finding each other. Tooru is so warm under him. It just feels so _right_. 

“Hajime…” Tooru breathes against his mouth, sending shivers down Hajime’s spine. Tooru has never used his first name before. And he loves the way it sounds from his lips.

“Tooru…”

They end up laying on their sides, kissing lazily. They move slowly, calm and happy in this moment. There is no rush. They don’t push for anything more. And it doesn’t get boring. Hajime doesn’t think he could ever get bored of the feeling. He feels warm. He feels happy. He feels at home. 

“You love to play with my heart, huh,” Hajime says into the cool night as they finally detach, returning their gaze to the sky. “You understood my note, didn’t you?”

Tooru laughs musically. “Yeah… sorry Iwa-chan. I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to finally work up the courage to make a move.”

“Idiot.”

“You love me really,” Tooru grins and squeezes Hajime’s hand. Two meteors glide through the darkness, burning brightly as they fly together.

“Yeah…”

  
  


➳

  
  


Nothing changes much at school afterwards. They still sit in each other’s classes, still tease each other at every given opportunity in the teacher’s room, and still meet at the gate every morning. But outside of work is different. Their lunches out become more frequent, and are classed as dates instead. And they see each other on the weekends. 

Tooru’s interesting apartment becomes a second home, the clutter familiar. And Tooru has his own drawer in Hajime’s room full of underwear and sweaters. They are a couple now, after all. 

“Iwa-chan, look at my new plant! It’s name is Iwa-plant,” Tooru grins as Hajime enters the apartment, padding into the living room. Tooru is holding out a small spiky cactus. 

“Iwa-plant?” Hajime asks incredulously, but a small smile tugs at his lips.

“It looks like you.”

“Shut up.”

Hajime frowns and takes the cactus out of Tooru’s hands, placing it on the windowsill, before wrapping his arms around a toned waist. 

“You don’t need a plant version of me. You have the real thing,” he grumbles, kissing the tip of Tooru’s nose. The taller male giggles, eyes becoming crescents as hands find themselves in Hajime’s hair. 

“Very true,” Tooru says against Hajime’s lips before closing the gap, softening the frown that was set in Hajime’s eyebrows. It’s a gentle kiss, tender and sweet. The warm sun shines on them through the window, showering them with warmth and light. 

Despite all of Hajime’s worry and hesitation, falling in love was incredibly easy. In books, it’s always magical and extraordinary, like nothing else in the world. But the truth is that it's very ordinary. It’s part of being human, and can happen without you even realising. It doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s not rocket science, after all. It’s love. It’s love in all of it’s beauty and ugliness. 

And now, as they stand pressed against each other, lips moving as one, a burning sensation flowing through his blood, Hajime has never felt so alive. 

‘Two idiots in love,’ as the other teachers like to call them. 

**Author's Note:**

> cries
> 
> thank you so much for reading !! any kudos or comments are greatly appreciated :)
> 
> i hope you enjoyed reading about these two dorks hehe
> 
> if you wanna chat or watch me come up with a different iwaoi au at least once a day, make sure to follow me on my twitter: oikawonder
> 
> also massive shout out to kelly (tbzbaeki on twt) for helping me brainstorm this, ily 
> 
> xoxo


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